


Drawn To The Ones Who Never Yawn

by SaphiraTARDIS11



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Not Beta Read, OC is trying to help, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Some Humor, hes kind, no beta we die like witchers, not really fluff but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22936066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaphiraTARDIS11/pseuds/SaphiraTARDIS11
Summary: “Sometimes we must exaggerate a story to invoke an equal level of emotion in those that hear it,” Colwyn said.Jaskier snorted. “Going by that logic I must be completely besotted with the man.” Colwyn’s lips quirked up.“What else is Her Sweet Kiss about?”——————————————————Jaskier meets another Witcher in a tavern and things go surprisingly well.OrJaskier needs someone to appreciate him so I made someone.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 292





	Drawn To The Ones Who Never Yawn

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this OC swirling around in my brain for ages and I started writing and just, didn’t stop? And now I actually have something that could almost be considered finished. Very strange and usual for me lol. 
> 
> OH ALSO, lore states that the Cats are psychopaths because of the mutagens they use, but THAT IS NOT THE CASE HERE. COLWYN REALLY IS JUST A KIND PERSON. 
> 
> I didn’t even read this after I finished it, so it has not been proofread and absolutely hasn’t been beta’d, so apologies for any mistakes, inconsistencies, etc. Please feel free to point them out!
> 
> I totally posted this from my phone because I am a heathen so if anything’s super off I am so sorry.
> 
> The title is from Northern Downpour by Panic! At The Disco because even I was getting sick of the Her Sweet Kiss titles lol. 
> 
> I rated it teen and up because I’m overly cautious, if you think that rating isn’t appropriate please let me know.

He finds him in a tavern.   


Jaskier is playing. He’d rather not be, not after - everything. But he needs to eat and he needs to sleep, and while he’s good at camping nowadays, he can’t do it forever. Not him. 

He’s playing Her Sweet Kiss and trying to keep the breaks in his voice at a minimum when he glances over to the darkest corner booth of the inn out of habit. That’s when he sees him. A man in the booth draining his tankard.

Jaskier knows he’s a Witcher as soon as he lands eyes on him. He’s not sure what it is. He’s not wearing his armor and his swords are nearly hidden beside him. He doesn’t have a shock of white hair or anything else he could identify as unnatural at this distance. 

But he knows.

The Witcher puts his tankard down and, instead of ignoring him and everyone else as he’d expected, he looks at him. Meets his eyes. He looks intrigued. Contemplative. Jaskier doesn’t know when the man sat down, if he’d heard the strained Toss A Coin that had been demanded of him earlier. If he knows who Jaskier is. 

He finds he hopes he doesn’t. Though he’s aware enough to realize he’s foolish for it.

The Witcher’s eyes haven’t left him by the time he’s finished the song. He’d planned on ending his performance now anyways, so he feels no compunctions about bowing out. His eyes only leave the Witcher for a few seconds at a time as he says his goodbyes and collects his room key and dinner from the innkeep.

Jaskier wavers for a second afterwards, wondering if he was really gonna do this all over again. But then he looks back and sees the Witcher still watching him, intrigued and curious, and he admits that he wouldn’t be himself anymore if he didn’t. 

So he grabs his dinner and goes.

He feels a distinct feeling of deja vu, but the attention of the Witcher throws him off, makes him feel wrong footed.

“May I join you?” Jaskier asks, because he’s not 18 anymore. He knows better now, and after -  _ recent events _ \- he knows not to insert himself where he’s not wanted. Only causes misery for everyone involved. 

The Witcher smiles, and the feeling of being off kilter increases. He finds he doesn’t mind all that much though. 

“I’d be delighted,” the Witcher says. And he sounds sincere. He at once feels flustered and suspicious. 

“I’m Jaskier,” he says as he sits, taking a sip of his ale. It’s actually good, which is a blessing when you travel like Jaskier does. Most ales taste like piss, in his experience. 

“Colwyn,” the Witcher -  _ Colwyn  _ \- says. Sitting across from him now, he can see the things he couldn’t have noticed from a distance. His eyes are the first thing. A bright, unnatural teal, mottled with a little bright green. His pupils are slits, like Geralt’s. He thinks the effect should be unsettling but it’s really just striking. 

His hair is a light brown and shaggy, nearly reaching his jaw. Either badly in need of a cut or on its way to growing out. He’s leaner than Geralt, as if he’s meant for sneaking about and hiding in small dark places. His medallion is different from Geralt’s. It has the Wolf on it, but it’s smaller, sharing space with a Cat. The two appear to be swirling around each other, chasing one another. 

”And I know who you are.” Colwyn continues, sounding amused. “I’ve been hearing your songs for two decades.” Jaskier knows his smile has lost some of its sincerity, becoming mechanical and stilted. Colwyn notices, but doesn’t say anything. He actually looks delightfully awkward for a second, and Jaskier can’t help but be ever so slightly endeared.

“Ah, I suppose that’s why you seemed so intrigued. I’d usually assume you want to hear more about the man I sing about. But,” he nods toward the swords beside Colwyn. “Those swords are not for decoration. I’m sure they’ve been used in many a fight equal to the ones I’ve sung about.” Colwyn gave him that intrigued look again, his head tilting. He looked like both a wolf and a cat, and he wondered if he was of both Schools.

“Usually I’d assume you came over here for those very stories. But,” he nodded to where Jaskier had been performing. “That song was not written for entertainment, and the ones that were, were not sung as such. Am I to assume you don’t compose odes to Witcher’s anymore?” Colwyn’s voice was kind. He didn’t sound mocking or or even pitying. It was a nice change of pace, even if it made his suspicions grow. 

Jaskier smiled wryly. “Not that one at least,” he answered a touch bitterly. 

“Ah, one bad apple does not ruin the bunch?” Colwyn asked. Jaskier laughed, though there was little humor in it.

“Perhaps, though I doubt anyone would put up with me as long as he did.” He took a gulp of ale, though he wasn’t looking to get drunk. He’d left that habit behind him years ago. Hopefully. “Oh well, no accounting for taste I suppose. He never did enjoy the finer things in life. Really never enjoyed the necessary ones either. Always did have a thing for punishing himself, though I guess I should have realized what that said about me sooner.” Jaskier held back a grimace as he realized just how much he’d revealed there. Colwyn looked concerned, and wasn’t that novel. A Witcher, concerned for his emotional wellbeing. He put on a fake smile. “Look at me, being maudlin. Not very polite of me. We’ve only just met after all,” he said. “Tell me, why did you seem so intrigued earlier? As I said, I’d hardly believe a Witcher would be so interested in the exaggerated exploits of another.” He finally remembered he had food, and ate a spoonful of the stew. Not the best he’d had, but definitely decent. 

“Even one so famed as Geralt of Rivia?” Colwyn queried. He waved down a server and ordered some stew for himself. They looked wary, but a glance at a seemingly at ease Jaskier was enough to ease their nervousness. 

After the server left Jaskier answered, “A fame which I gave him with, again, exaggerated tales of fights that you’ve no doubt had equal to.” Then he smiled sadly. “Well, the good side of his fame anyway.” Colwyn looked at him contemplatively. 

“Sometimes we must exaggerate a story to invoke an equal level of emotion in those that hear it,” Colwyn said. 

Jaskier snorted. “Going by that logic I must be completely besotted with the man.” Colwyn’s lips quirked up.

“What else is Her Sweet Kiss about?” Jaskier shot I’m a sharp look but had to wait to respond as the server returned with the Witcher’s stew. Colwyn seemed as pleased by the decent quality as he’d been.

“You are far more perceptive than I’m used to,” Jaskier replied with a little resentment. But there was some exhilaration as well. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d found a conversation so delightfully mentally stimulating, and their topic wasn’t even intellectual. 

Colwyn must have seen this because he was unfazed by that resentment. He smiled, clearly amused. “I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment to myself or as an insult to those you’re acquainted with,” he replied. 

Jaskier barked out a short laugh. “Either would be an accurate interpretation.”

Colwyn raised an eyebrow. “Now I believe I must ask after your intentions for me.”

“Intentions?!” Jaskier blurted incredulously. “You think I’m flirting with you?” Colwyn shrugged. “I hardly think a conversation about my unfortunate feelings towards another man is flirtatious.” 

The Witcher smiled deprecatingly. “When that man is also a Witcher, perhaps. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been sought out to fill in for another.” He didn’t seem upset about this. More - resigned. As if he knew it wasn’t entirely right or okay but couldn’t do much about it.

“I don’t do that,” Jaskier said seriously. “If I’m intimate with someone - hell if I even flirt with someone, it’s because I care about them. Even if that care isn’t returned, or it only lasts as long as the deed itself. I don’t use people, and I certainly never take someone to bed when it’s not them I wish for.” He waved a hand, as if to ward off any misinterpretations. “Don’t misunderstand, under different circumstances I’d be all over you,” he said sincerely. “But I’m too caught up in my heartbreak and bruised ego to want anyone right now. Not even handsome Witcher’s with frankly gorgeous eyes.” He said that last bit a tad dreamily, and he snorted and shook his head. “Apparently I have a type.”

Colwyn was smiling, looking a tad flustered. With the slight flush on his cheeks, it was a rather fetching look, and Jaskier lamented that he was too broken hearted to truly enjoy it. 

“I’m not sure you have an ego to bruise,” Colwyn said. Jaskier blinked, startled, and then laughed.

“You’d be the only one to think so,” he chuckled. “I’ve been reliably told, many times, that my ego is in fact too large rather than too small.” Colwyn smirked.

“Is that an innuendo?” Jaskier laughed. 

“No no, my past lovers have been completely satisfied in that regard. The word ‘perfect’ has been thrown around a few times, if you must know.”

“And you say you’re not flirting,” Colwyn replied. 

“My apologies, I don’t mean to get your hopes up. Old habits die hard I suppose.” Colwyn just hummed, still smiling, but he didn’t look like he didn’t believe him. Reassuring, as he truly didn’t want to lead him on.

“Now, back to your ego,” Colwyn prompted. Jaskier groaned, but he was smiling.

“Must we? I assure you, I do have one and it will certainly survive without you tending to it,” Jaskier replied, breaking off a bite of bread. Colwyn gave him an amused look, as if to say he knew Jaskier had avoided saying ‘stroke’, but he said nothing on it. 

“Those with an ego don’t usually only speak ill of themselves,” Colwyn countered. 

“I speak plenty highly of myself,” Jaskier said.

Colwyn raised an eyebrow. “Not to me you haven’t.” 

Jaskier sighed and smiled wryly. “Perhaps it’s because you seem kind. As if you would care if I let you. I find more and more that that’s unusual. So I must tend to my ego myself.”

“Pretend to, you mean,” Colwyn said with far too much perception and far, far too much kindness. 

“Or perhaps my ego was bruised more than I was prepared to handle,” he said. Colwyn didn’t look convinced, but he said nothing as Jaskier polished off the last bites of his stew. “This has been a pleasure. No truly, the most mentally stimulating conversation I’ve had for longer than I can remember. But I must retire for the night.” 

“I’m going to be in town for a few days, waiting on a correspondence. Perhaps we can talk again?” 

Jaskier thought about it, and smiled. “Yes, I’d like that.” Colwyn smiled back. 

He stood, and Colwyn stood with him. The Witcher clapped him on the shoulder, and Jaskier returned the gesture. 

“Hopefully I will see you tomorrow then. If not, then I wish you well on your Path.” The sentiment made Jaskier smile again. He vaguely wondered when the last time he’d smiled this much was.

“And I wish you safe travels, successful hunts, and warm welcomes wherever your own Path may take you,” Jaskier said. Colwyn laughed, looking delighted. 

“Do you always try to one up everyone?” 

“I wouldn’t be much of a bard if I didn’t, would I?” Jaskier replied.

“I suppose not,” he said with mirth. “Goodnight Jaskier.”

“Goodnight Colwyn.” And with that, he took his leave. And if their hands had lingered on each other’s shoulders just a little too long for people who’d so recently been strangers, well. That’s neither here nor there. 

**Author's Note:**

> So there you have it! Jaskier made a new friend! A real friend! Who will appreciate him! I have much more in mind for this, but whether I actually get to writing it or not is a mystery. If so, it’ll be a second chapter on this fic. 
> 
> (Anyone interested in a Jaskier/Geralt/Colwyn ot3? No? Just me? Ah well)


End file.
